


In The Pocket

by Hatterized



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, a bit of blood, but they're having fun with it, some punches are thrown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 21:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10544618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatterized/pseuds/Hatterized
Summary: Negan thinks Rick seems a bit stressed during his visits to Alexandria, so he suggests a game of pool to help him relax





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post that suggested that the reason Negan wanted that pool table so badly in the finale was because he and Rick fucked on it. So here you go.

When Negan rolls up to Alexandria, he can feel the tension coming off of the people who let him in the gates in waves. He can’t blame them, of course. The last time he was here, he disemboweled a man in the street- granted, the guy was a grade-A asshole, but still. _Someone_ probably liked him. He didn’t particularly feel bad about that one if he was being honest- cowardice was something that made his skin crawl, and that guy had reeked of it. Sidling up to him with liquor and a game of pool, trying to casually discuss Negan doing the job that he didn’t have the guts to do himself- killing Rick and replacing him as the leader. Not only did it make Negan's blood boil that the guy was trying to weasel his way into a place of power under people's noses, but that he was trying to do it to _Rick_ \- well. Negan couldn’t have that. Not for one goddamn second.

Negan had a certain fondness for Rick, he couldn’t deny that. There was just something about the guy- a certain spark, a lively little fire burning hot beneath his forced calm. That, and the guy was hot as hell. When he leveled Negan with that blue-eyed glare of his-

And there it was, right on cue. Rick, with that classic Grimes Glare, as Negan’s taken to calling it in his head, strides right up to him, not speaking, but watching him closely as his men begin to spill out of the trucks. He looks tense, shoulders squared up and fingers rhythmically clenching and unclenching at his sides. He’s one feisty little fucker, Negan’s got to give him that. And all that pent-up frustration is just waiting to explode right out of him. Negan, despite himself, is more than a little interested to see what will happen when it does.

“Rick!” Negan grins, strolling over and throwing one arm around the shorter man’s tense shoulders. He feels all that muscle coil even more tightly under the touch, and he has to resist the urge to poke fun at him for it. “Rick, you seem stressed as hell, you know that? Walk with me.” Negan makes to start leading Rick further into Alexandria, and Rick moves to duck out from under his arm. Negan tightens his grip, and Rick stills, shooting him an icy blue glare.

“Just to be clear, Rick, that was _not_ an optional suggestion. You are _going_ to walk with me. Got it?”

Rick is silent, but he lets himself be led down the tree-lined sidewalk by Negan.

“Rick, I think you and me got off on the wrong foot. You seem about as tightly wound as a priest at a brothel, and I can’t fucking have that. You and I are gonna take a load off, do some relaxing, take your mind off what’s going on out here.”

Rick shoots him a dangerous look. “I’d rather be out here to make sure nobody else _dies_ this time-”

Negan cuts him off with a click of his tongue. “Nobody’s gonna die, Rick. There’s no need for that. Arat’s got this. She’t not about to go rogue and start shooting without my permission.”

“She shot Olivia the last time you were here,” Rick bites back.

Negan grimaces. Now, _that_ one he does regret a bit. Olivia had some serious lady-balls on her. But still. “I told her to kill someone. Retribution for Lucille, Rick. For trying to kill _me_. Arat's a good soldier. She’s not about to go rogue. Try to unclench from around that stick up your ass and take a breather.” He stops in front of a line of houses and looks down at Rick. “Tell me, which of these fine folks here is the proud owner of that pool table?”

Rick grits his teeth, but nods toward a house on their left. “It’s in their garage.” Negan’s face breaks into a wide grin.

“Goody! Alright, Rick. Let’s see how good your game is.” He leads Rick up the front steps and into the house, which is thankfully empty, and into the garage, flipping on the lights and striding right in.

The balls are already racked up, so Negan just grabs a couple of sticks, thrusting one into Rick’s open hands, and takes his place next to the table. A looks down the cue, takes aim, and breaks hard, knocking a single stripe into the far right pocket.

When Rick takes his turn, he misses, but Negan scratches the next one and then Rick gets two in.

“Goddamn, Rick! See, there you go, nothing like knocking around a few balls to relieve some of that fucking tension.” He looks up to see that fiery glare still locked onto him, and he frowns. “You got a fucking problem, Rick? Something you wanna share with the class?”

“You’re my _fucking problem_ , Negan,” Rick snaps, and Negan’s eyes shoot up because _wow Rick’s never talked to him like that before_. “What the hell are we doing right now? What do you think this is? Some kind of game?”

Negan blinks down at the table then back up at Rick. “That’s…exactly what the fuck it is, Rick.”

Rick growls and slams his cue onto the table, rounding the corner to get up in Negan’s face. “This isn’t a joke to me. Do you get that? You’re down here, trying to- what, _be friends?_ You killed two of my people last time you were here, Negan. Two of my _friends_ -”

“That Spencer prick was hardly a friend of yours, Rick. I think I did you a goddamn favor there-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Rick shouts, grabbing the lapels of Negan’s jacket and tugging him down to his level. “You’re not doing me any favors by _killing my people_.” Rick is practically seething, and Negan puts his hands on the man’s shoulders in a gesture that's meant to be calming, but only seems to rile Rick up even more.

“Okay, Rick. I get it. Never said we were fucking friends. Just wanted you to blow off a little steam before you popped.”

Rick’s gaze scorches into him. “This isn’t going to help me _blow off steam.”_

Negan tilts his head, smirking. “What will?”

“You leaving me alone would be a great start.”

“No can do, Rick. Any other ideas?”

“Punching that fucking smirk off your face would be great.” Negan’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and his tongue slides between his teeth. He likes this side of Rick, and decides to follow this little rabbit trail to see where it leads.

“Alright, baby. You fucking go for it. Anywhere but the nose, alright? My wives would have a fit if you ruined my pretty face.” Negan can see the conflict behind Rick’s eyes, the _is this a test?_ versus the _I don’t care I’m going to do it anyway_ , and the next thing he knows, Rick Grimes’ fist is meeting his cheek, knocking him back a few staggering steps. He laughs for a moment, and then Rick is on him, fists jabbing into him wherever they can reach, and _oh, that shit is_ not _going to fly_.

He brings a knee up into Rick’s stomach, hears the breath leave the other man in a ragged exhale, and then he’s drawing back and punching Rick in the face, his hand coming away bloody. Rick’s still going though, throwing punches and digging knuckles into his ribs, and it’s only when Negan grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him up against the wall that he seems to come back to himself enough to stop.

They’re both breathing hard, and Negan can feel the places where Rick hit him beginning to bruise, feels the way his cheek is swelling a bit from the initial punch to the face. Rick isn’t looking much better, though. His lip is split, blood spilling down his chin, and Negan’s tempted to lean in and lick it up.

Once Rick’s fists loosen a bit, Negan lets him go. And the second he does, Rick lunges again like he’s going to tackle him, and Negan grabs him by the front of his shirt and spins him, shoving him up against the edge of the pool table.

“Rick, Rick, _Rick_! That was not the fucking deal, baby! I said a punch to the face, not an all-out brawl.” He lifts one hand and runs it over Rick’s plush lower lip, wiping away some of the blood there. “Look what you made me do. That’s a damn shame. I’m just glad I didn’t fuck up more of that pretty face of yours-” Negan freezes mid-sentence, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt. He’d moved fractionally closer to Rick, just enough that he’d felt something pressing up against his leg- something thick and hard that felt an awful lot like-

He glances down between their bodies, and _holy shit_. He drags his eyes back up to Rick’s face and sees the flush there, the way his pupils are dilated, and for a moment he’s tempted to pinch himself because there is no fucking way he’s this lucky. His face breaks into a wide shit-eating grin, tongue sliding between his teeth.

“What’s this, Rick?” He asks, sliding a knee in between Rick’s legs, not pressing against him, just enough to watch the smaller man’s narrowed eyes go wide at the gesture. “You got something down there for me? Having a little _too_ much fun during our fight?” Rick stays silent, but the flaming red of his cheeks speaks volumes. “You want me to take care of that? Now _that_ would be quite the way to work off some fucking tension.”

He expects Rick to pull back and punch him in the face again. Perhaps tell him to fuck off. Maybe a knee to the groin.

What he doesn’t expect is for Rick to yank him in by the front of his jacket for a bruising kiss. He almost breaks it for the surprised noise he makes, but then he’s crushing Rick closer to his body, his hands wrapping around Rick’s slim waist and knotting tightly in the back of his shirt, rucking it up a bit. Rick kisses like he fights, relentless and brutal, and _damn_ if Negan doesn’t love it. Rick’s tongue is in his mouth, and then he’s groaning and pulling Negan closer when Negan responds in kind, licking at the seam of Rick’s lips and nipping on the already abused lower lip. Negan can taste the salty tang of blood as they kiss, and he wouldn’t be remotely surprised if he was bleeding a little himself with how Rick’s tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth. He presses the knee up between Rick’s legs, feeling the smaller man's arousal pressing hard and needy against his thigh and smirking into their kiss when he hears the groan Rick gives him in response. Negan tightens his grip, the little noises coming out of Rick's mouth making him want to tear into the other man, strip him bare and fuck him until all he can do is make those sweet little groans.

Rick pulls back after a minute, his blue eyes locked onto Negan’s, the atmosphere between them tense and heated, and Negan pauses for a second.

“Rick-”

And then Rick’s on him again, cutting him off with a brutal kiss. “Shut up, Negan.”

Negan chuckles, drags his hands around to Rick’s chest and begins working the buttons on his shirt open, pushing it off of Rick’s shoulders and onto the floor. “You sure you wanna be giving me orders here, Rick?” He rakes his nails down Rick’s chest, feeling Rick shudder deliciously against him and arch up into the touch when he rubs his thumb over a hardened nipple.

Rick unzips Negan’s jacket and yanks it off, ripping his shirt over his head impatiently before pressing their lips together again. “Yeah, I think I do, actually.” He says, and Negan growls in response, grabbing Rick by the hips and grinding their crotches together, pulling low moans out of both of them and loving how Rick’s hips jerk up into his at the contact. He tugs Rick’s belt out of the loops and unzips his pants, sliding one hand into the waistband of his boxers and playing with the coarse hair there.

“Careful how you talk to me, Rick” Negan purrs into his ear, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the soft skin of Rick’s neck and feeling how it makes him shiver. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m the one in charge here.” His teeth scrape skin and Rick hisses in response, his nails biting into the small of Negan’s back.

He’s sure that Rick’s about to say something in response to that, but Rick doesn’t get the chance to get the words out, because suddenly Negan’s hand is dipping lower and wrapping around his length and giving it a few loose, teasing strokes. Negan smirks into the side of Rick’s neck when he hears his breath hitch, feels his hips stutter forward into Negan’s hand. “You like that, Rick?” He teases in a low voice, passing a thumb over the head and humming a hungry noise then he feels how wet Rick is for him already. “Oh, you _really_ like that. You’re leaking all over my hand right now. I bet you could get off with just my leg up against your dick, couldn’t you? Just rubbing up against me and coming in your fucking pants. I wonder how you taste-” He draws his hand back out of Rick’s boxers and slides his fingers into his mouth, tasting the wetness there, and Rick’s eyes go dark.

He grabs Negan and suddenly there’s hands everywhere, unzipping and tugging and pulling down without gentleness until they’re both stripped, and Negan can’t help but slide his hands down Rick’s back and grab two handfuls of his ass, giving it a rough squeeze and loving how Rick’s hands find his hips to give them a little squeeze in response. He leans in, lips at Rick’s ear. “I’m gonna fuck you right on this table, Rick. Fuck yeah, I am. Gonna put you on your back and work you open and give it to you _so fucking good_ that you can’t walk straight after.”

He feels Rick squirm against him, feels teeth tugging at his earlobe and he tries and fails to repress the shudder that runs through him. “What are you waiting for, Negan?”

Nothing, apparently, because as soon as the words leave Rick’s lips, Negan’s lifting Rick up to sit on the table and then shoving him down roughly, fingers splayed out on the center of his chest, and he’s pushing Rick’s knees up and apart. He leans over Rick and presses two fingers to his lips, smiling and then groaning when Rick’s lips open to him and take them in, his tongue working between them as he takes them deep, wetting them.

“ _Fuck_ , Rick. You keep working my fingers like that, I may have to pull you off this table and ask you to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use somewhere else.” He pulls his fingers out, biting his lip at the way Rick’s teeth drag lightly against them. “Maybe next time.”

He rubs the wet fingers over Rick’s entrance, watching Rick’s chest move up and down with stuttering breaths as he tries to relax against him, and then Negan’s sliding one finger inside and watching as Rick’s eyelids flutter shut. He adds a second one, his gaze fixated on Rick’s face and how his features twist as Negan works him over, how his lips fall open and his face scrunches like he’s trying to hold back. Negan redoubles his efforts, wanting to draw a reaction out of him, curling and pumping and searching until-

“Fuck!” Rick cries, his back arching straight off the table, hips rolling down onto Negan’s fingers in a desperate plea for more. And _more_ is exactly what Negan gives him, working that spot with shallow thrusts that make Rick growl and squirm and actually fucking _whine_.

“Jesus, Rick. You should see yourself right now. You just can’t wait for it, can you? Practically fucking yourself on my fingers, dick leaking all over your stomach. Fuck, you look good.” He pulls his fingers out and Rick makes a small unhappy sound in the back of his throat that makes Negan chuckle. “Don’t fucking worry, babe. Gonna fill you right up.” He spits into his hands, getting himself as slick as possible before settling against Rick’s hole, teasing the tightness with the tip of his cock and seeing Rick’s hazy blue eyes turn toward him.

And he just has to take a moment, because Rick looks like a goddamn _mess_. The blush that colored his cheeks earlier has traveled all the way down his neck and chest, and it makes the blue of his eyes stand out even more. His cock is flushed and leaking, his legs spread wide on the table for Negan to settle in between. He grins down at the man under him. “You ready, Rick?”

Rick shoots him a glare, which is much less intimidating when he’s so wrecked. “You know I am, Negan.”

Negan presses against him, just enough to tease, but not enough to slip inside. “You sure, Rick?”

If looks could kill, Negan would likely be six feet under right now. Negan’s about to laugh, but then he feels Rick’s ankles hooking around his waist, and Rick is bracing himself and pulling Negan against him, managing to fuck himself down onto Negan’s cock.

“Fuck!” Negan throws his hands out on either side of Rick’s body, bracing himself against the table to keep himself from falling forward. He’s only halfway inside of Rick, but Rick is smirking up at him in a self-satisfied way that both gets under Negan’s skin and makes his dick twitch. Negan composes himself enough to return the smirk. “So that’s how it fucking is, is it?

“Yeah, it is. Don’t be a fucking tease.” Rick’s eyes are amused and _fuck_ if Negan doesn’t want him even more for how much of a feisty little fucker he’s being. 

He grabs Rick by the waist and snaps his hips forward, impaling the smaller man completely and groaning when he feels the tight muscles fluttering around his aching cock. “Jesus, you’re fucking tight.” He slides his hands under Rick’s knees and pulls him forward, and Rick gets the message, wrapping them around Negan’s waist and pulling him in deeper, pulling long groans out of them both.

“Fuck me, Negan. Come on.” Negan shoots Rick a wicked grin and then he’s pulling out and thrusting in roughly, burying himself deep and hearing Rick moan in response. He sets a brutal pace, slamming into Rick relentlessly and keeping a bruising grip on his hips, wanting to leave marks on the skin there, hoping that Rick will wake up tomorrow and step out of his shower to see the evidence of Negan still on him. Rick feels so tight and hot and just about fucking perfect around him, his legs squeezing Negan like a vice, heels bouncing against Negan’s ass as Negan pounds into him. They’re being loud, Negan can tell, which Rick will probably be pissed at him for later if anyone dares to bring it up, but he doesn’t give a fraction of a fuck because every time Rick stutters out a breathy moan as he’s fucked into the table, Negan wants to fuck him even harder to see what other sounds he can pull out of him.

When Negan hits his prostate on a particularly well-angled thrust, Rick yells out, fingers scrabbling at Negan’s arms, and Negan’s grabbing his hips and tilting them up to hit that spot every time and drink in the delicious way that it makes Rick writhe against the table and sink his teeth into his bruised lower lip, reopening the split in it. It’s when Negan releases his grip on to slide a hand up and stroke Rick's stiff cock that the other man clenches around him and Negan’s hips start stuttering and his mind goes foggy, fucking into Rick with abandon and working Rick with his hand as he feels himself getting close.

“Fuck, Jesus, _Rick_ , you feel so fucking good, so fucking tight around my cock. This tight little ass is _mine_.” Rick is incoherent, just rocking back into Negan’s thrusts and pushing his hips up into his hand, his breath coming in short pants, and when Negan snaps his hips into Rick again, he feels Rick coming undone under him, his hips jerking and cock twitching and spilling over his stomach and Negan’s hand.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, _Negan_ -” Rick’s shouting, and Negan's name leaving Rick’s lips as he comes all over himself is enough to make Negan fall apart, his hips thrusting fast and needy against Rick as he spills inside of Rick, groaning his name. He keeps fucking Rick until he can’t anymore, finally pulling out when they’re both spent and sweat-soaked and panting. Locks of Rick’s wavy hair are stuck to his forehead, and his stomach is a slick mess that drips down him when he sits up. Negan watches, leaning heavily against the table, as Rick tries to stand and fails, his legs giving out under him as he sinks clumsily to the floor.

“I made good on my promise didn’t I?” Negan laughs down at him. “Can’t fucking walk, can you?”

In response, Rick grabs Negan’s white t-shirt off the floor and uses it to wipe up the mess on his stomach before throwing it to him. Negan balks at the ruined shirt in his hands. “Fucking _rude_ , Rick. You want me walking around with your spunk all over me for the rest of the day? I feel like that’s gonna raise some pretty interesting questions, don’t you?”

Rick looks up at him, and the glare is gone. It’s been replaced by a smirk that looks just as dangerous.

“Good thing you have that stupid jacket, then.”


End file.
